February 6th, evening.
The snow was thawing, but the spring chill still bit to the bone.
Loren lingered over dinner for a long time.
Today was the first weekend after term began. That evening, he had to report to the caretaker, Mr. Filch. Though it was called detention, it was really volunteer labor—odd jobs like wiping down the Prefects' bathroom, cleaning the washrooms, and sweeping the courtyard.
Mr. Filch no longer advocated corporal punishment. He even worked alongside the punished students.
Apparently, the caretaker used to leave students alone in a room to work while he went elsewhere to handle other matters, only returning afterward to inspect their work. That lasted until he ran into George and Fred. While the caretaker was away, the pair deliberately stole confiscated contraband. After that, Filch changed the rules.
Detention assignments at Hogwarts were not fixed. If a professor needed free labor, or wanted to pull students from their own House out of detention, they would take over the relevant supervision and assign tasks related to their subject—processing potion ingredients, sorting Greenhouse fertilizer, even helping organize exam papers. Unfortunately, no one was willing to help Loren this time. They all thought he deserved it.
After swallowing a mouthful of pumpkin pie, Loren smacked his lips, savoring the sweetness. He said goodnight to Hermione in advance, then resolutely walked out of the Great Hall and headed alone to the office at the end of the first floor corridor. He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?"
"Loren Morgan."
"Come in."
As he pushed open the door, dim yellow light met his eyes. There was only one Oil Lamp hanging from the ceiling, and there were no windows in the surrounding walls. The room was filled with the oily aroma of fried fish.
The first impression